


Maps, wait!

by elizabella



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:50:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizabella/pseuds/elizabella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>End of tour shiz......angsty schmoopy shiz....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maps, wait!

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to get this Nick/Harry tag back on track......I hope you enjoy this....I listened to the YeahYeahYeahs song Maps about 10 times whilst writing....it's my no 1 Gryles tune. I really like Nic Squared btw, I'm real happy for Nick. I just really love angsty Gryles.

Harry closed his Mac and lay back against the giant pile of fluffy pillows, a few tears silently fell from the sides of his eyes, wetness trailing down his temples and into the little baby curls by his ears. He felt guilty for looking forward to the end of the tour. He had the remaining dates memorised but looked through them on his phone anyway. He had never known exhaustion like this, how he was managing to keep his voice in check and the energy levels up was a mystery. Australia had been rough on them all, the inability to go anywhere was frustrating, the staff at American Apparel had even put what clothes he had bought online for fuck sake, and now said items were selling out. Weird. He grabbed his phone.

Nick awoke from a snooze on the couch with his phone buzzing gently on his stomach. 

Harold: Miss you. I’m sorry. 

Nick sighs and turns onto his side, he stares at the message for a few moments before replying.

Grim: Nothing to be sorry for Haz...friends can miss each other. 

Harry feels so totally done, in so many respects, “fuck it” he whispers. 

Harold: I miss feeling your heartbeat through my shirt. Not like fucking friends. 

Nick awakes that night feeling physically sick, he had dazed dreams of Harry and Nicco, standing on opposite sides of a breaking bridge, him stuck in the middle, and them both falling off the edge. He sits up in bed and pets Puppy’s head, “Silly dad huh baby girl, lets go back to sleep”. Puppy noses at his cheek and makes a cute whiney noise. He falls asleep with his arm over her little body, desperately trying to think of anything but Harry, alone in a hotel room. 

Harry and Nick have no no contact over the next few weeks, Harry stalks Nick and finds himself looking at a picture of the Italian dude on Instagram, wearing only underpants for some reason, for an age one night before they go on stage in Brisbane. Niall grabs his phone “for fuck sake Haz...keep that shit for private time”, he laughs as Harry grabs the phone off him, face going beetroot red. He spends much of the gig imagining all the sex Nick will probably be having with that little perfect body. 

He reasons with himself the relationship with the Italian is casual, and that Harry had agreed that trying to ever make anything work between him and Nick was pointless and more painful that anything else, given he would be away for much of 2013. Then he thought back to the kiss in his Range Rover after a they attended Pixie and David's birthday parties that night during London Fashion Week in September , Harry knew they had agreed strictly friends, but he tested his luck at the traffic lights, putting his hand on Nick’s thigh. Nick only let out a heavy breath and covered Harry’s hand with his own and looked down at his feet. Harry took the first left into a quiet street and killed the engine. Before he could get any words out his mouth, Nick had splayed his big hand on the back of Harry’s neck and was leaning in to kiss him, Harry could feel how much Nick was shaking and stroked his back under his shirt.

The kiss didn’t last long, but was desperate with want from both ends. They then drove to Nick’s in silence and Nick didn’t speak as he got out the car only pausing to run his thumb over Harry’s jawline and across to his bottom lip. Harry drew Nick’s thumb gently into his mouth, biting down and closed his eyes. He didn’t open them until Nick was out of sight down the stairs to his flat.

Nick was incredibly drunk. Even by his standards. Which were pretty high. He was djing at the opening of some shop, of which to be fair by this point, he had completely forgotten the name of. He had been drinking free champagne like there was no tomorrow, fortunately tomorrow was Saturday. Nicco had come with him, and was looking gorgeous in a two tone suit. They both fell into a cab and headed back to Nick's. Harry had text him a few days ago, the first he had heard from him in over 2 weeks. 

Harold: I'll be home on Saturday, can I see you? Australia has been rough. 

Nick went into the bathroom once home and stood in the mirror, he watched himself, shirt hanging off, swaying back and forward towards the mirror. He looked at the message again and sent a reply he knew he would regret. Fuck Nicco is out there, he thought. How can I completely forget about someone that beautiful being in my lounge. Nicco was great, he was fun and handsome and kind. But he wasn't a hen toed idiot with dimples so deep you could fit a Maccy D's french fry in there (Nick had successfully done this). Something had to give. Nick felt sick, from the booze and his stupid heart. He checked his watch it was 1am. He was going to have to have a conversation he really didn't want to have. He felt like he no longer knew what was right, but he knew listening to his heart was the stupidest and scariest thing ever, and he had never really done it before in terms of love. 

Harry looked over London at night, the drizzly rain expanding across the tiny window like tiny teardrops in a race as the plane flew into Heathrow, it had been so long since he had seen the expanse of the Thames with all the landmarks. He felt dizzy with a weird feeling in his stomach, down there was what he had been waiting on for the longest time. It was so simple in his head, but he knew that it was a complicated bundle of feelings. Could he even do this after all this time. The tour was over, but another one would be starting next year, but he could be in London for the next 6 months pretty much. There were so many obstacles in the way of him getting Nick. All he ever wanted was to be a popstar and sing to thousands of people every night. Now all he wanted was to see freckles, that wild quiff, those long fingers. He had turned into the only thing Harry really knew. The only real truth in his heart. Everything had become so big and blurred. Sometimes he felt as though he was out of his body looking down. Nick grounded him and made him be able to see straight again. He thought of all the nights down on those streets, down in those two beds in Primrose Hill. He felt like his heart might burst, wanted to run through those streets in the dark rainy cold streets until he reached that white door. 

Harry headed home to his big house in Primrose Hill, the thought of it all big and empty gave him a little anxiety, but he was so tired he knew he would sleep. He wanted to be close to Nick's place if he was going to let them talk things out tomorrow. He hadn't replied to Harry's message he sent two days ago. Harry stared out the window and turned his phone on. 

Grim: I hate Ausztralliaa cos it has yoo n I don't, my hearts sore fr you...dos that mak sense?!! gahh. Come to me soon as plane on grond. xx

Harry leaned forward and gave the driver a new address. 

Harry stood at the white door, it was 5am and the dawn was starting to break. He knocked quietly. He waited for a few minutes and then knocked a little louder. He could hear footsteps coming towards him and for a split second thought about running back up the stairs because he just remember the Italian in the equation. But Nick had asked him to......the door opened slowly and there he was. Nick was standing in his underpants and an open white shirt, hair sticking up at every possible angle. He smiled gently at Harry. They stood in silence for a little while. Harry took a step forward, "Ann ...Annie Mac" he stuttered. Nick looked confused. "Annie MAC" Nick said in his loud high pitched voice. Harry put his hand over Nick's mouth. "Let me fucking finish Grim". "I watched that talking thing you did on YouTube with her" Harry's mouth was dry and he felt like the lead in a romcom but "I want to be the one that is always there when you wake up, I know I can't always be here, but whenever I can be in London, I want to be the first thing you see when you open your eyes". Nick's eyes were watering and he grabbed Harry's hand "come in you fucking idiot". 

They held onto each other for an awfully long time once in the hall, Harry kept his head firmly in the crook of Nick's neck, he could feel Nick's heart racing through his tshirt, it made him feel wobbly with having what he had needed for so long. Harry began peppering little kisses up Nick's neck and across his jaw until meeting his lips. The kiss was warm and wet, wide and Nick's legs shook with it. The intention behind it was so much more than he had ever experienced with anyone else. They leaned heavily into each other as the kiss became hotter and Harry began making those little kitten mewls that made Nick's dick fatten up real quick. Nick could feel Harry's erection against his thigh and pulled back. "I need to show you something important in my bedroom", Harry laughed, "Is it your dick?", they didn't even make it to the bedroom ending up with hands down each others pants wanking each other rough and needily in the hallway. Nick coming first striping white over Harry's half off tshirt and half on the stupid butterfly. Harry coming just after with a soft moan of Nick's name whilst Nick stroked softly over his face, wetly kissing his lips.

Nick awoke to a face full of hair, the hair of a popstar, who seemed to not have washed it for a while. But it smelled like boy, smelled like Harry, his boy. Nick pressed himself against Harry's back and kissed the nape of his neck, breathing him in. Harry pressed back and murmured "I'm here", Nick grinned so wide his face felt like it might fall off "you're here". Harry turned to face him and there it was, that face, them eyes, that nose that looked a little like a dick and the cherry red Jagger lips, he leaned in tongue first to kiss Nick wide and slow, then leaned back eyes dancing like big green planets "tour is over". Nick thought about how this was true but there would be another tour and press for the album, but the idea of the rest of 2013 involving Harry in London overrode all of that. "tour is over" Nick echoed. Harry smiled at him like he was everything and at that moment he thought maybe this could work in some way, after all they had been through they were still like magnets, finding their way back together. 

Harry interupted his train of thought "The world is our oyster" he announced adding "for now" with a hopeful look. Nick pushed him gently onto his back and straddled him watching his hair splay around his head like a dirty muscly lanky perfect angel of weirdness. "I want you to be the one here when I wake up too, when you can be here, that's good enough for me Haz, because anyone else isn't you, regardless of what they can offer". Harry reaches up to kiss him deeply and fiercely, he slides his hands down Nick's chest eyes wide with too many emotions to list, he cocks his head to the side "can the bed be our oyster for the rest of the weekend first though?".


End file.
